


Somewhere Only We Know

by beifomg



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Choose Your Own Ending, Comedy, F/F, Fluff, Horror, Romance, Tragedy, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8170904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beifomg/pseuds/beifomg
Summary: The following information was found for this error:Girl, you’re fucking gay. Dahyun and Sana are gay, which means that they are both happy and lesbians in love.But we can't always be happy, can we?





	1. Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemonysnicketing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonysnicketing/gifts).



> Rating: R. Borderline mature.
> 
> Genres: Romance/Fluff, Tragedy/Angst, Comedy, Horror (not necessarily in that order), Choose Your Own Adventure/Ending. High School AU. Zombie Apocalypse. Dahyun-centric. Flaming lesbos as hot as the sun times four raised to the power of nine. (Harold, they're LESBIANS.)
> 
> Warnings: can be seen here: http://listography.com/2300924236/fanfic/somewhere_only_we_know_saida_fic_warnings  
> Please take a look but beware of SPOILERS.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is fictional. I neither own SaiDa or Twice nor am I affiliated with them. I also use lyrics from f(x) and Miss A songs. The places in this fic are mostly fictional; I just had to borrow the name of a city in South Korea. I also made a few original characters.
> 
> Author's Note:  
> Finally got this bad boy published, lemme hear a BOO-YAH. [readers and subs collectively yawn and mumble, "boo-yuh"] [fic says, "GAY I'M MOM"]
> 
> Okay, I think this fanfic is proof that my forte is angst. Seriously now.  
> But don't be swayed! I had a friend read some parts of the good happy stuff (and there are HEAPS OF 'EM), and she said she loves them. Then proceeded to block me on Twitter when I reminded her there will be zombies included. There is angst, but there is also getting into each other's pants. A win-win situation, if you ask me.
> 
> So here's how this will go:  
> I will be publishing two alternative endings. I think you can guess why. I will also gift y'all a cute drabble at the end. :)
> 
> This fic was inspired by Train to Busan, but they aren't really that similar. There are zombies, but only for a while, and here there's no neglectful father or a train even. I laugh at myself because it was only in the shower, three days after I started writing this, that I remembered that the Like Ooh-Ahh's music video has zombies in it. Again: Seriously.
> 
> All things considered, I believe this is my best fic yet. And I am extremely pleased with how it turned out. I am finally setting this baby free after raising it up to be the independent... fanfic it has become. I had plenty of fun with it! I revised it countless of times. (I wish I could do the same with my life, lol.)
> 
> I'd also like to say: Twice are so beautiful. Saida are so beautiful. Girls are. Sexuality is. Most importantly, love is!!!
> 
> This story is for the women who love women. You are awesomesauce.
> 
> I'm parting with something Troye Sivan likes to endorse:  
> KEEP ON KISSING.
> 
> Enjoy!!!!

It's just like any other ordinary day when the bell rings, signaling the dismissal of classes. Dahyun zips her backpack close and shoulders it. "Aw man, it's raining. I didn't bring an umbrella with me today," one of her classmates, Momo, laments with a pout. The rain pelts down in large drops as students from all classes run for cover. Before the classroom empties, Dahyun strides out the door, pushing her round-framed glasses up her nose.

 

 _Open caf?_ she types, pressing send.

 

In ten seconds a bird chippers in her hand and Dahyun opens her phone. Squeaky Squirrel answers, _Yep. I'm the only one here other than two seniors. I might not look it, but I'm internally cringing my face off right now._

 

 _Ok. Be there in two secs. Lemme guess.... he's giving him an under the desk handjob,_ quips Dahyun, clicking her phone's screen off.

 

She blends in the crowd swimming down the stairs to the first floor. It hasn't rained in almost five days, so many students are bummed out that the rain chose today to pay them a visit, especially on a Friday. Turning to the left in the direction of the cafeteria, she is abruptly intercepted by her Korean Literature teacher, Mr. Park, who calls her by her infamous nickname "Eagle." Really, Mr. Park was just cool like that.

 

"May I speak to you for just one minute, Dahyun?" He brushes off the dust on his two chalkboard erasers, right outside the teachers' faculty.

Dahyun looks down at her phone, then says, "Alright, sir." She quickly types out, _Mr. Cool Guy wants to talk to me. Might take a little while._

 

Mr. Park swings open the door to the faculty room, and they walk to his cubicle. Only having been there once before, Dahyun takes in his table as he's beckoned over by a colleague.

 

Stacks of Xeroxed copies of classics and the like sit atop it, categorized by level. A red rose lies upon it, its color distinct, and Dahyun thinks she sees drops of water on its flowers. She smirks, hiding it with her hand just in case Mr. Park sees it and queries why. Another secret admirer? _Wow._

 

The Literature teacher claps his hands once behind her, giving her a start. He beams at her. "Sorry Eagle, had to wash my hands," he tells her, chuckling, wiping his hands on his black pants.

 

"So. This will be quick," he starts, as if he can sense that someone special's waiting for her.

 

"Remember the assignment I gave your class? The one about expressing your fear in detail, but through the eyes of a surrealist?”

 

"Yes, I remember. 1,000 words. It was given three days ago, I think." Dahyun nods, and her eyes catch the wrinkly spine of a book that reads, _A Buddhist Bible_. Dahyun's lips part in wonder.

 

Nodding back in confirmation, he pulls a table drawer open and takes out a long, beige folder. He puts aside a piece of paper and scans over Dahyun's essay for a moment, then turns to look at her. "I have to give it to you, Dahyun." With slender fingers, he delicately holds the paper for her to see. "I'm really impressed."

 

A bright red A presents itself high and proud, stark in the fluorescent light. Blinking, Dahyun doesn't know what to say. A’s in Mr. Park's class are certainly attainable, but you would have to duly stay by the rules and maybe even observe what he likes to get from you. But at the same time, Dahyun has heard tales of how he favors written work that touches him genuinely. Something difficult made to look effortlessly neat and gift-wrapped with a shiny bow on top. She's still learning the ropes, and it's only the second quarter.

 

She's impressed with herself too.

 

Or at least with Mr. Park’s enchantment with all things infused with feeling.

 

"Sir," Dahyun prompts, as her teacher returns her essay and closes the folder, still holding it as if it's all he's ever searched for and wanted as a high school teacher—an essay on depression and suicide, by a silly but meek girl seated by the aisle, third row, Class A2. Thinking about it that way, it sounds like a wicked fantasy, but Mr. Park isn't like that. Leave all the fantasizing—of death and eternal damnation—to Dahyun. She’s got it all covered. "I mean no offense in saying this but, may I ask how I managed to score an A?"

 

Mr. Park discretely flicks his hair off his forehead, a tilt of the head and a smile in his wise eyes. "Let me ask you your own question. How _did_ you manage to get an A?"

 

She hesitates, not knowing what to say to her own inquiry. For someone who apparently just got an A on an essay in Mr. Park’s class, she’s at a loss for words. "I honestly don't think I deserve it but… thank you." She bows in reverence.

 

Mr. Park shakes his head, sporting a dimpled close-lipped smile. "You are very frank.

 

"So I will be, as well. I can confidently attest to the brilliant coherence you deliver through your essay, _The Monsters Underneath_. It deserves more than A. It deserves readers, but only if you'd let other people see and be touched by your words. I myself am truly honored that you chose to be vulnerable and upfront, however negative and bone-chilling your subject may be. It gives me, as a teacher who cares about his students, a window into your mind. I am glad, Dahyun." He gives her a round of applause, and Dahyun is just really so grateful that it does not catch any of the other faculty members' attention. Jesus, it _is_ true that Mr. Park has a flair for the dramatic. Dahyun wants to jet out of here.

 

She finds her vision straying back to the copy of _A Buddhist Bible_. She looks too long that her teacher notices her interest.

 

“What’cha looking at, Eagle?” He swivels in his seat to see what has caught and tugged at Dahyun’s attention.

 

"Oh, this?" Mr. Park slides it out from the line of books supported by space rocket book ends. Chuckling lowly, Mr. Park leafs through the book and lingers on the dog-eared pages. "It's not mine. Well, it is but it recently wasn't. A former student of mine came by this morning to give it to me for personal reasons?"

 

A friendly, open smile written on his face, he offers it to her. "You can have it."

 

Dahyun shakes her head frenetically, blushing. "N-no! Thank you, but I just recognized it and wondered why you have it. So now I know, and it's fine." A frown knots his eyebrows together.

 

 _Uhh, just say it. It’s nothing._ Timidly refusing, she continues in a much softer tone, "Someone dear to me was a Buddhist. She only owned two books, and... I just," she bites down on her lip, wishing she would disappear, "associate that book with her a lot.”

 

Hearing the vulnerability in his student's voice, he assents, and the lenient visage reappears as if it never left. "Okay. It's okay, Dahyun."

Dahyun bows and mutters a faint ‘thank you’ before marching out the faculty door.

 

 

 

"Urgrh, I was bored!" she defends herself, raising the bubble wand to her lips and blowing softy, the bubbles of various sizes popping in Dahyun's face. Sana giggles, the sight of her smiling reminding her of a video of a dog encountering bubbles for the first time. “You took pretty long, and I deleted the games in my phone last night because it made me feel tacky and childish. The handjob couple wasn’t doing the best job covering it up, so obviously…” Bubble. Stains. Are. Everywhere.

 

"How did your graded recitation go?" Dahyun asks, wiping the splatters of bubble water off with her handkerchief. She really doesn't mind the bubbles, as long as her friend seems bubbly.

 

Sana stirs the wand inside the tube, answering, "For History? Okay, thanks! Actually, it was pretty easy." She blows more in Dahyun's direction. “I shouldn’t have spent so much time fussing over every detail when Ms. Kim is so… unlike your average History teacher. She’s a good one. Bless her. I like her. I hope she doesn’t die early.”

 

"Arrggahh," Dahyun thinks she growls, grabbing for the bubble tube while Saha dodges her every attack until both of them tire. Laughing after a day of reflections, written activities, orals, demonstrations, and gym felt soothing to the soul.

 

They purchase a bag of Cheetos, wolfing it down. Sana wipes bits of cheese power off the side of Dahyun's pink lips, and Dahyun freezes, heat rising up to color her cheeks a tint of vermilion. What?

 

Sana claps her hands together to shake off the powder, humming a Miss A song Dahyun has only listened to once, so she can’t remember the title.

 

Why is she acting... unusual all of a sudden? Nah, more importantly, why was she feeling weird too? Maybe she hasn’t been to her doctor for a while. Evidently, it was time to come back… maybe?

 

Sana hops off the table lithely. If Dahyun were in her place, she would've stumbled and killed half of her life span off. They walk to the restroom next to the kitchen to wash their hands. When they're done they agree to start walking home but before that—

 

"Oh! Dahyun, your left shoe's laces are untied," Sana redirects her attention to yes, her ignorant, un-‘woke’ shoelace that has a life of its own. "Maybe you should get new ones..."

 

Dahyun sighs. "Dammit, these shoelaces are cursed, I tell you."

 

"May I remind you that you _did_ buy them from a thrift store? You could listen to yourself talk sometimes, just a suggestion."

 

Pretending to look affronted, Dahyun points forcefully to the shoelaces. "You see these bad boys?" Her eyes are so wide Sana can see more of their white. "They may be cursed or possessed, but in the end I really don't care. Why? Because it has Pororo patterns on it! That's priceless! Plus, it wasn't even that expensive! Do you want me to have it exorcised?”

 

After staring at her with a faux incredulous expression all this time, Sana finally cracks up, hand resting on her belly. Dahyun can't help grinning, putting her foot back down on the ground after successfully knotting. "You are sooooo cute!" Sana pinches her on the cheek. "You're my tofu-eagle cupcakeeee!"

 

"We-well, look who's talking! Squirrel cheeks, seriously... your voice just keeps on becoming squeakier and squeakier..."

 

Sana pouts, shrugging exaggeratedly. "You love it anyway."

 

Uhhhhhh… _A system crash has occurred. The computer will resta_ — _Jesus_ , Dahyun! You’re not a computer! Act human! Act normal!

 

BASED GOD, WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU? Eyes cast down, a millipede crawling by her shoe catches her eye. Like a camera, she zooms in on it and screeches, PSSST, CREEPY CRAWLY. CALL 911,

STAT. OR HURRY AND SEND A BATTALION OF YOUR FRIENDS. I NEED BACKUP, NOW.

 

They begin their journey back home. Not only have they been schoolmates from a very young age, but they are also neighbors. They didn't have to make the friendship work out. It all felt natural and genuine, and it was clear to both that they cherished each other more than anything in this small world of a town they live in.

Really, now. How can home feel so much like a person?

 

Dahyun recalls the nickname Sana has only recently given her, or at least appended to the already existent hybrid of words. Cupcake is Sana's favorite food, melted chocolate sprinkled with sugar, Kit-Kats diced into thin strips, finished off with a literal cherry on top. All as sweet as the curve of Sana's smile. The shorter of the two daydreams of Sana surrounded by those same cupcakes, a winsome facial expression making her even prettier. Her hair glows and her eyelashes stand out. So scrumptious she...

 

Wait a second there.

_Failed to initialize WTF was she just Thinking 2.0._

Wait. Hold up.

 _Please try to reinstall_ your grip on reality _._

Wait what?

 

Dahyun prays to the based God that whatever she's going through now, it stops ASAP. A to the S to the A and P. She refrains from letting it show on her face that she's fighting back these... _trying_ thoughts. Yes. She is most definitely having a _trying_ time. But to be honest? She feels like she's punching at air. What is this feeling?

 

It is fact that she hasn't had a crush in ages. But she really isn't ashamed that she's never had a boyfriend. There's just no one particularly eye-catching around. Consider her being in an all-girls school. Yeah, she does have neighbors who look conventionally attractive, and she sees why Chaeyoung and other students from other batches ogle at Mr. Park. But honestly? She's okay being single. No crush, no rush. She's content which is enough.

Right?

 

They arrive just before turning itself into the confines of the land. The rays that glitter down the road briefly remind Dahyun of her halcyon days. Shorter hair, crooked teeth, and a toothy smile. But she was happy, and Sana was already there.

 

They bid each other good night at their front door steps when Dahyun reminds Sana, "Oh yeah, the sleepover tomorrow—pushing through?"

 

Nodding, Sana keys her door open and blows her a kiss. "Definitely."

 

Dahyun's thumbs up stays there mid-air until her father sees her through the window, opening the door for her. "Where did your key go? And what are you doing just standing there, buttercup?" He checks the front of the house.

 

Dahyun's mind is a ball being shaken inside an aerosol paint container.

The paint comes out smoothly. The color an evenly cute Sana.

 

Well, shit.

 

“Dad, I think you might need to bring me to The Home Depot.”

 

❤

 

To say that Sana is afraid of thunder would be a grave understatement.

 

They have White Chicks on TV, with a large box of pepperoni pizza on the floor in front of them. Dahyun increases the volume to combat the series of booms outside that shake her window.

 

"Ayayayayayay." Sana inches closer to the other, squirming on Dahyun's bedroom floor. She squeals maniacally at the window, nothing but swaying trees and flashes of lightning to be seen. "Could you keep it down?! We're trying to watch a movie here! Sheesh! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻"

 

Dahyun elbows her. "Hey, ouch!"

 

"Try to focus on the movie," Dahyun says in between chewing, then bites off a huge chunk of pizza. "It's just nature. Your fear is irrational. I'm here for you, too. And I’m pretty sure I am _much, much_ scarier than lightning farts.”

 

Sana snorts, sighing into the dreary night. "I know, I know. Ha ha ha. And yeah, this movie. _Which you have seen a million times by now_."

 

Dahyun elbows her again, but before Sana has the opportunity to call her out once more, she stretches her arm around the taller girl’s waist and softly thumbs where her curves dip.

 

Squeaky Squirrel gives into the touch, shrinking herself to Dahyun’s side so they can share more warmth. "That tickles," she mumbles groggily.

 

Dahyun’s smile reaches her eyes. "Now, look who the cute one is."

 

Sana shakes her head as she wills herself not to smile back. "Whatever. щ(ಠ益ಠщ)" She fails.

 

Then, in horror movie cliché fashion, the lights go out.

 

The downpour beating down their roof fills in for the thunder.

 

This time, it's Dahyun who sighs. "Perfect. Just perfect." She makes use of the flashlight app in her phone, and Sana does the same, her eyes flitting to random constellations in the darkness. They both reach for one another's hands, lest the space separates them or a black hole sucks them in.

 

A knock on the door slaps Sana’s back and straightens her posture. She coughs as if that would help cover up her embarrassment. "Dahyun? Sana?" Candlelight illuminating his face, Mr. Kim comes in. A rosary is wound around his fingers, and on his pointer finger a cross is tattooed.

 

Dahyun still remembers what her mom once helpfully regaled when she was younger, "When I met your father, he looked burly and scary like the Hulk, but inside he claimed to be a changed man. And he was—" Here, her mom glows like a fairy in the woods, an enchantress every hunter fell in love with, a siren singing to the ships. "—a changed person. He had all his tattooes removed, but kept one that was _veeery_ , very small."

 

Here, five-year-old Dahyun dangles her feet as the swinging stops. She takes a look back up at her mom, a painting of a young and delightful lady, with touches of melancholy, and her mom looks down and strokes her braided hair. "He kept that cross you really like. He loves God and you."

 

The Dahyun of the present time doesn't know for sure if her mom did look young and delightful. Perhaps her mom failed to realize that her dad loved her, too.

It was around that time when she and her dad fought most nights, and Dahyun had to push pillows down against her ears to muffle the shouts, plates shattering against peeling and cracking paint. She'd stay up crying for two reasons. One, her parents rarely fought before, but then as the anniversaries doubled they were at each other's throats, wielding words that cut deep through the skin. And two, the monster beneath her bed would check on her whenever she'd let her eyes flutter shut. It was lonely and heavy and oppressive, a safe where she was hidden away to see what mattered. But everything mattered. Everything hurt. It was too much.

Always too much.

 

Then her mom was diagnosed.

 

They didn't have the money, though her dad tried and Dahyun secretly skipped lunch at school to slip a few bills into his piggy bank. He did catch her though. He was furious when he saw her in the act, but he ended up sobbing into her tiny, bony shoulder. He did so quietly, just so his wife wouldn't hear him and fall apart too. Events unfolded pretty fast after that, and two days later, Dahyun's mom was announced dead at 5:21 in the morning.

 

That was a long time ago. But Dahyun remembers that morning like it was yesterday.

 

Dahyun receives the candle handed to her. "Sana, your mom phoned me. She says it's just another power outage, nothing your dad and his men can't fix.”

 

Sana bows her head curtly. "Thanks, uncle."

 

He grunts a response out, nodding and wobbling out but only after making sure they're okay and asking if they want to join him at the dining table. "We're doing fine here, Dad!" Dahyun says, and he leaves the door ajar.

 

The rain eventually peters out. In the middle of the room, the flame looks like the sun. Sana and her lie on their bellies, throw pillows cushioning their chests. Sana puts on a song which, of course, is that Miss A one. Sana's favorite.

 

"What's this one's title? It's growing on me," Dahyun speaks, fingers pressing on invisible piano keys in the creaky floorboards.

 

"Ah, it's _Only You_." She sings to the lyrics with perfect timing. "Now, look touch my heart babyyyyyy."

 

They jam for most of the night, with Sana hopping up and around like a bunny to the beat and Dahyun using the app to imitate a strobe light. It is only until Dahyun begins to feel sleep creep up on her, her eyes threatening to shut close, when Sana starts playing a song by f(x). _Beautiful Goodbye._

 

The room, candlelit and as small as a cocoon, suddenly feels like an open field. Dahyun feels like she's by a bonfire—new embers glow like rubies in a mine, struck by moonlight that wishes to enlighten what's buried in the dark. She hears snippets of the song as she keeps drifting back and forth into slumber and consciousness.

In between, she sees a specter of a spirit. A woman. But the graffiti of consciousness keeps pushing her back into the wall, the ceiling, the floor, down to where she’s pushing daisies.

Dahyun’s world turns like a vinyl, and the song scratches into life and goes a little like this:

 

_Your bigger hand,_

_Your taller height._

 

_I thoughtlessly passed by you,_

_Now I want to be closer and closer,_

 

_The sun was very beautiful,_

_In my memory on a particular day,_

_In front of the school gates,_

_You waited for me,_

 

_You’re obvious smile in your laughter,_

_You held my hands tightly,_

 

_Even when time passes by it becomes clearer,_

_Is every first memory like this?_

 

"Huh?" Dahyun hums sleepily. Sana is caressing her cheek. Dahyun yawns. It’s completely quiet now, and the rain has devolved into a drizzle. Perhaps the heavens really do need to cry sometimes, too.

The universe is an oddly human thing.

 

"Dahyun," Sana breathes, and _holy shit, her lips are so close, holy shi_ t, Dahyun thinks. She's about to rub her eyes awake when Sana cuffs her wrists with her hands.

 

_Dahyun.exe has stopped working_

 

As if she's at the doctor's, having her blood retrieved for samples, Dahyun holds her breath. The world spins again and she's peering into a microscope, and she sees Sana's eyes, where a wealth of sincerity and openness resides. Dahyun wants to lightly put her lips on her eyelids, close her eyes so she can dream of euphoria, surf the planes of pure happiness on a gust of wind. Forget everything and turn away from the monsters Dahyun knows oh too well.

 

Her Sleeping Beauty. Her Snow White.

 

Dahyun counts in her head, but it all sounds like gibberish, the most erroneous code you can think of. She thinks Sana is testing the waters. She's held captive, but she doesn't really mind, not when Sana is closing in. Not when she hears her sharp breath. Not when it's not painful at all. It's the opposite. It's remedial, it's life-giving. And it's so, so _good_.

 

They kiss like they're drinking a shared glass of water. Dahyun has never been this parched, and now this satisfied, this refreshed, this alive. It flows down and down and she’s taking a deep dive. There, she finds Sana.

Has she always been waiting for her to come down?

 

All the lights turn on, but they didn't really need it or even notice. Everything is honey, every color is so vivid, and every taste is so unbearably sweet.

 

_The following information was found for this error:_

_Girl, you’re fucking gay._

 

Just this once, Dahyun believes in a higher being. And she thinks the apparition was one of her mother’s, playing the role of her guardian angel. Would her Buddhist mom be okay with that?

She did say she’d love Dahyun no matter what.

 

❤

 

They walk home. As they pass by the house of Mr. Lee, a dickhead of a grandpa confined in a wheelchair, whose granddaughter takes care of him, Sana pulls her toward the side of their fence. Next to the brick wall, where moss has become its wallpaper, sticks out a Peruvian lily. Its light to deep purples and dots of white and yellow shine in the setting sun, making it easy to spot even from the other side of the road.

 

Before Dahyun can make her stop, Sana plucks the flower out. "Sana! What the fuck—"

 

Kissing Dahyun's cheek—and yes, Dahyun's face is ablaze, _har har, funny funny_ —Sana inserts the flower in her hair, just above her right hair. "There," Sana whispers. "That wrinkly asshole doesn't deserve a garden like that. Or even just this flower. It's yours now."

 

Dahyun crinkles her nose, suppressing the shudder of all shudders. "...Wrinkly asshole. Hah, by the way, isn't he homophobic? That's what my dad says.”

 

"Really? Good. All the more reason for me to do this.”

 

Sana steps forward. Another step, and another, until the other is squished between the wall and her. Sana leans forward, lips barely touching the skin behind Dahyun's ear, and Dahyun shivers. In another life, she would’ve whirred and whirred until smoke came out. The sun is in her eyes, the brick wall behind her frigid, but Sana makes a move and teasingly bites at her earlobe. Dahyun squeaks, Sana grinning into her neck, laughter silently shaking her shoulders. "Hey! Why you little—"

 

Doing the fucking _kabedon_ , where you have one hand rest on the wall next to your partner's, or—Dahyun begs to differ—target's, head, Sana shuts her up effectively. And if the taller of the two didn't have a firm grip on Dahyun's lower arm, the latter would have fallen face first on the ground. She doesn't care if Mr. Lee even catches them _grinding_ against each other for her to let him do it. Just let him run over her with his wheelchair, please Based God. The other way around works too. _But I have preferences_ , Dahyun thinks, _like girls._

 

They won’t stop making out while Sana moans into her mouth. It's so sinfully erotic that Dahyun doesn't ever want to live a life without her. Without _this_. She places her hands to Sana's sides, digging her nails into her blouse and leaving impressions on her silky skin until it feels as if her hands will detach themselves. Dahyun is so inebriated in the act and art of making out— _how thirsty can she get?_ —that when Sana leans back she pushes herself off the wall to follow on instinct. Sana's heavy breaths single-handedly elicit a frustrated groan from her.

 

And they're in broad daylight.

 

Sana looks at her slimy hand, shrugs, then refocuses on Dahyun. "So worth it."

 

She's about to capture her lips again when a yelp sends them apart. Separated by only a bush and the fence, she gapes at them as if she's seen a ghost. Two ghosts making out after stealing her flowers. Lesbo ghosts. Lesbhosts? Mr. Lee's granddaughter, now a certified Lesbhostbuster, is about their age, maybe a few years younger. The girl's watering plant clatters to the ground. She's saying something but neither Sana nor Dahyun can read her lips. Dahyun likes to think she says, "The horror! The horror!” Dahyun kind of wishes Mr. Lee wheels out just to flash out some saggy jazz hands.

 

Sana smiles at the poor girl. "Hey, that was hot wasn't it?" So, why is Dahyun so in love with this girl again?

 

"I have a hack for you if you want to be much happier in life:

 

"Ditch your granddad. Kiss your best friend. Don't think. And BE GAY." She punches a closed fist into the air like Superman—SANAMAN—and under her breath Sana hisses, "Run. ಥ⌣ಥ"

 

They almost clash foreheads, but in no time run in tandem, hair rippling wildly in the wind behind them. Gales of laughter reach the clouds and wake children up from their naptimes—their mothers snoring soundly on the couch, too tired to be woken up by Dahyun and Sana’s worldwide broadcast of “I am here. We are here. We’re so alive.” The sun sets, but in this moment, where they're dripping in sweat and high on adrenaline, a mirage of the sun stays back in the sky forever.

 

They laugh to the rhythm of tilted back heads, singing joyously at the sky. "See?" Sana shouts in the whipping wind. "You can bet on me to rein in the gay!" Their stomachs hurt, but in the best way possible.

 

Grinning, Dahyun shouts back, "That's pure talent right there! It's a yes from _meeee_!"

 

Dahyun thinks she once drew the exact same picture when she was nine. The sun was colored a bright egg yolk in the sky. Two kids chasing away from their troubles. The humid day a recurring theme in their lives. Their silhouettes are perennially suspended on the walls, and there, back in that garden, they hide their love in a time capsule for other lovers to dig up and figure out.

It’s not that complicated.

 

Happy. She exhumes her beating heart from the nurtured soil.

Happy. Butterflies parade behind her.

Happy. Sana is a soul that has touched hers. If you ask Dahyun if she believes in the red string of fate, she would shake her head no.

But sometimes, she allows herself to dream. In her bed, at 12:27 am, she dreams of wools and wools of red thread. In the vast ocean of red, she finds Sana. Just Sana. That’s when the thread goes away, while both of them eternally stay.

 

One day in the past, Dahyun folded that drawing into a bird, an origami of nostalgia and deadlines and broken promises. Some colors stick out, some colors are tucked away, and some colors? Burst at the seams of Dahyun’s dreams.

Dahyun goes back to it now, where it’s kept away in the shadows of her closet.

And when she unfolds the bird, its wings once weary and beak sad, it breaks free. Out of its mold and swaying in the threads of golden twilight, it encircles her.

Her heart beats, a frisson of all things worth living for melting into her smile.

She feels as happy and as free as that drawing.

 

❤

 

There is something about lying in bed with someone you love. Not in a sexual or suggestive way. Nothing naughty, nothing sinful. Just the mutual craving for listening to the other breathe by your side. The familiarity of walking down a road to a cottage you've put up with your hands. In these four walls, they make love just by gazing into each other's eyes.

 

This must be enough. The reciprocation of what the other wants and feels. It must be enough, and it feels like it is.

 

But it isn't, Dahyun decides. It's much more.

 

❤

 

Dahyun unlocks the front door, glancing at the rusty BMW shrouded by the bushes. It’s supposed to be hers after her mom passed away, but she can’t claim it. And she feels like she shouldn’t. It’s her mom’s and always will be, but she has to admit that seeing it there, dumped and dirty below the living room window, upsets her a little.

She’ll find the time to fix it.

 

In she goes and is greeted by the sight of her father sipping from a mug. On the living room table sits her own mug of taho.

It could be described as an unspoken tradition in the family, especially ever since her mom died. Dahyun's mom's close friend was a Filipina whose husband was a taho vendor. She used to drop by and bring them containers of it. She was what you could call a "One Call Away" friend. But after her mom died, when they needed her the most, her mom’s friend stopped coming. They used to invite her over, but perhaps she had changed her phone number or went back home.

Dahyun wonders if people can just leave without saying bye like that. Well, her mother did, but not intentionally. Never. Life just sucks that way.

They drink their taho in peace with Dahyun seated beside her father. They have shifts wherein they lay their mugs down to watch TV. It's on mute—Dahyun's father has the vinyl record playing a soporific, classical song—but Dahyun is able to read the headline that flashes across the screen: SONGDO RESEARCH LAB TEMPORARILY CLOSED, Reasons Undisclosed. A slideshow of photos of the aforementioned laboratory pop up onscreen.

 

“Hey. Hey, Dad.” Dahyun points at the TV. “Isn’t that only thirty minutes away from here?”

 

Mr. Kim nods, saying, “Yes, it is. I wonder what happened, although it’s probably nothing. Give it a couple of days, maybe a week, then they’ll shut down permanently. Funding problems, maybe.” Dahyun’s dad shrugs. “It’s nothing to worry about, won’t affect us in any way, buttercup.”

Dahyun turns her attention back to the screen, where the newscaster is delaying news about an upcoming typhoon. “I wonder why they had to broadcast it, especially now at six.”

 

She continues to gulp the taho while it’s still warm, but then looks back over the couch and out the window. She only sees the handlebars of her mom’s bike, and it’s as if she can hear it tell her, “Hello? I’m still here! Are you ever going to dispose of me? Clean me up? Hello?”

 

Dahyun sets her mug down and poses a question.

 

"Dad, do you miss Mom? Like, do you miss her all of a sudden when you do the laundry or fix people's roofs? When you shine your shoes?" She doesn't look at him when she asks all these. She pretends to pick at the lint on her skirt. “You know… just out of the blue?”

 

Her father sighs, a sad smile lacing his lips. "I do, buttercup. I do."

 

Of course, Dahyun has noticed the changes a couple of times before. But right now, with her father looking straight at her, ashy hands wrinkled and worn, she feels it full-blast. He has aged so much. She has tried to sneak in nuts, oranges, bananas, peaches, chocolate bars, _anything_ really, into his meals all day, and even wakes up earlier than usual to buy hot, stuffed buns for her father to mostly devour. She tries to fit in some more house chores into her schedule. But whatever she does, she can't stop him from growing old, his hair graying and his vision worsening by the day.

 

She supposes that that's just what life really is. Like her mom died. Life. It's funny, she thinks, that life just has to end for someone or something, and when they reach that point there's nothing much you can do. It's the hopelessness of it that makes life what it is without love and hope—unbearable or extremely painful, or sometimes a mixture of both.

 

Dahyun can’t almost believe that she has already gone through and survived both.

 

❤

 

Behind Dahyun's smile rise a million dawns. "You dream of me sometimes?"

 

"Well yeah, duh," Sana replies, then stays quiet on the other end. Dahyun's about to ask if she's still there when Sana breaks the silence, "I have countless of times. We _do_ know each other for years now. They were always so innocent and platonic, but as of late..."

 

The line goes quiet again, and Dahyun embarrassingly thinks she can hear her own voice breathing heavily through the phone. But what if it’s Sana’s?

 

"You still there?" Sana murmurs.

 

"Y-yeah. I'm here." Dahyun gulps, really wishing a glass of hot water would magically appear on her bedside table. She'd need a scalding to keep her from saying something silly or, worse, inappropriate.

 

"Hey." Sana puts her phone to her ear so her voice is much clearer. "Are you having an episode? You want me to come over? I'm sor—"

 

"NO! I mean, _no_ , not at all. I'm doing… good. I think I'm just very sleepy. Gym sapped the energy out of me today," Dahyun cooks up, silencing a groan of her own. "I keep blacking out. It's important I don't though because I have truckloads of ho—"

 

This time Sana interrupts her. "I love you."

 

The three words ring in Dahyun's ears, along with the implication behind them. Nothing has been replaced, just made anew, given a new layer of protection and endurance. It's red and flashy, deep and wanted, the most blooming rose.

 

"Thanks— _I mean_ , I-I love you, too." Dahyun facepalms into the next life. As she tries to get her bearings, Sana laughs, but it's more like a giggle. And Dahyun hears wedding bells, and _shit_ does she want to marry Minatozaki Sana. Because Dahyun is a grotesque amalgamation of stutters and nights crying alone in her room and hands stained with ink and lame shoelaces that always untie themselves. She's all mangled body parts, always in need of replacement stitches.

Meanwhile, Sana is an attractive cocktail of Victoria's Secret's Amber Romance perfume, a captivating tinkle of laughter, the most enchanting piano piece, and a tarmac where an airplane and its pilots can find rest. She has stumbled and fallen, but she's always gotten up, and look at her now—the quintessence of a flawless transformation. An eloquent body of prose and sometimes a piece of poetry broken down into gasps and dashes and commas and syllables. A musical composition Dahyun can't wait to get her hands on. In whatever form she is in, she is often under constant revision, yet she always exists so wonderfully, so dearly. Ending, yet still continuous, like she is in Dahyun's dreams. A portfolio of love letters scribbled in the dark, confession after confession flooding out.

 

She is the earth, stable and solid and homey, a place where Dahyun lives. It keeps on giving and giving. Lying within are streams of promise where Dahyun lights up in hope. If she were on the brink of death she would gladly accept her fate, as long as she winds up sinking into Sana's embrace.

 

And yet, Sana, her sunny, solid Sana, is also the butterfly to Dahyun's flower. She glides in and out, travels with the wind.

 

She is air, she is land. Perhaps Dahyun is the water, the oceans and the seas, but she's done moving with the undertow. She has found where she wants to go.

 

❤

 

"Hey." Nayeon positions herself between their seats, swinging on the balls on her feet. "Momo, Chaeyoung, Jeongyeon, and I are gonna go swimming in the pool up the hill next Saturday. Some upper and lowerclassmen will be there too. Come join us?”

 

Sana frowns, moving to face her full-body. "Isn't that closed? And the lab beside it is too, if I'm not mistaken."

 

Dahyun fiddles with her pen, taps it against her chin. "Yeah. Also I don't think it's wise of you guys to just break in there. It's off-limits for a reason, I'm sure." She glances at Sana, who shares with her a look of unease and fear.

 

"Let yourselves breathe, people!" Nayeon laughs. Dahyun doesn't think of it as a laughing matter at all. "Momo's uncle lives with her family. He keeps a spare key to the pool in his bedside table drawer." She snorts.  "Live a little. It's nothing. It barely got coverage on the six pm news!"

 

Shrugging, Sana politely declines. "I think I'll make use of that time by working on my math skills. I got worksheets to accomplish."

 

Nayeon turns to Dahyun, her facial expression demanding a positive answer from her, or at least a highly commendable excuse.

 

Dahyun just shrugs, too. "I got something more important to do. Sorry, Nayeon. Maybe next time?"

 

"Ughhh, girls! Listen," Nayeon tries to convince the duo. "Don't you want to meet hot guys? Flaunt your bodies in two-pieces? Get a little, I don’t know, action? Like, this is your last chance. I’m not asking again."

 

At the same time, Sana and Dahyun blurt out, "I'm not interested in guys."

 

Shocked, Nayeon blinks and slowly backs away. Veryyy slowly. " _Ooookayyy_. If you say so. Just make sure you won't regret declining my invitation." Dahyun lends her a thumbs up, and when Nayeon turns away, she and Sana snicker.

 

They're on their way back home when Sana leaps onto Dahyun’s back.

 

"HOOOOLY GUACAMOLE WEARING HALF A PANTY— ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?" Dahyun wheezes out, forced to accept the challenge not to topple over and actually kill them both in the process.

 

Sana pouts and kisses her cheek. "But all the cute couples do it. Come on, my eagle! Giddy up! Woo!"

 

"An eagle doesn't giddy up," Dahyun sputters out, struggling, but with Sana's arms firmly around her chest and Dahyun hiking her up a little more with a short jump and grip on her girlfriend’s _thighs_ , they move onward.

 

"Yay!!!!" Sana squeals in pure excitement. She starts to sing, “La la la! La la la la la! La la!!!!!”

 

Dahyun curses under her breath. "You are a child. A four-year-old." She attempts to check out what Sana’s doing now, even though it is hard to do.

 

Waving her hand around like she's a pageant queen, teeth in a perfect row forming an exquisite smile, and subtle curls crowning her face, Sana is a goddess. A goddess who wants her done for, apparently. Dahyun thinks, _Zeus fucking help me. I'll bow down to you if you strike that tree over there down. Help me. Or just tell Sana she can have all of me then send me straight to the Underworld. I’m cool with that, too._

 

"Hey." Sana sulks, her smile deflating. "You stopped moving. Is this too much, babe?"

 

Feeling brazen-faced, Dahyun cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, "Help! My wife is trying to send me to the hospital! But if there'll be hospital bed sex then o—"

 

Sana jumps off her and clamps her mouth shut, stuttering, "I can't believe you said that!"

 

Dahyun apprehends the tone of her voice matched with the surprise on her face. Oh, maybe she was being too audacious. Shit. "Sana, I—"

 

"You want to be my wife?"

 

Dahyun's jaw hits the floor. She looks at everything but the girl, this woman, in front of her. "I mean… uhh, it just slipped out and I wasn't really thi—"

 

"I want it too," Sana whispers, and at first Dahyun thinks it's just the susurration of the wind, the sound of a single bird flying by. But Sana says it again, and it sounds like the accumulative beating of ten birds’ wings. "I want to be your wife, too."

 

>.<

 

They drop by the local store and buy a lollipop each—lemonade and grape. Dahyun demands she pay for both. When they're out walking again and Sana has her arm looped around Dahyun's, she skids to a stop.

 

" _MMmmmMm!_ Hey—" Dahyun turns, and there, one bare knee on the pavement, is Sana, face a heart-shaped strawberry. Dahyun's heart has never beat so loud and fast.

 

"Dahyun, you are the light of my life. My tofu-eagle cupcake. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me cry, you make me snort, you make me _snort up pasta_ up my nose, you make me pee my shorts, you make me go mad, and you make me unbelievably, outrageously, out of this world happy. I just hope and pray I make you feel the same things, too. I know we're too young, but, baby, I've known you since forever. And yet, forever still doesn't feel enough for my love for you."

 

Sana blinks back tears, and Dahyun belatedly realizes that she herself is crying.

 

"So," Sana hops a little closer, clearing her throat, "Kim Dahyun, born May 28, 1998, blood type O, 165cm in height, and 48kg in weight...

 

Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Forever or not?”

 

Their faces are wet, and Dahyun trembles, hands hiding her quivering bottom lip. She lifts Sana by the shoulders, and Sana follows, her eyes never leaving Dahyun's. Dahyun goes around and dusts the dirt off her skirt, checks her knee, and feels her up. But it's not like that. Sana's tears continue to fall on the ground as Dahyun caresses her clothed waist, her forearms, her elbows. She smooths away the worry lines on Sana's forehead and plants a kiss where they used to be.

 

"Of course I'll marry you. I was always yours, even before I realized it. I was so blind and I was so deaf to the beat of your heart, but _yes yes yes_ , I want to marry you." Dahyun's voice shakes, but it's true, very true, too good to be true. If they weren't holding each other, they would've fallen to the ground. "I was and will always be yours, forever. There is no alternative.”

 

Staring at her with bated breath, Sana lets Dahyun maneuver her around until they're under the shade. "It's starting to rain." And there, by a stall of oranges, under a tacky roof, they slip on their plastic rings on one another. There, they know they’ve changed. Together.

 

"I can't believe you're here. I can't believe you love me too, love me back. In all the ways?"

 

"I can't wrap my head around the fact you are now my wife. My wife, my life, I don't care. I love you, I really do. Yes, in all the ways. Even in ways that mankind can’t comprehend yet. I love you.”

 

Pinky fingers interlacing, they move along. The sky turns into an orange-pink, and the clouds look like cotton candy. Dahyun shivers, but not because it's freezing. But because she feels quite the opposite. Sana does too. And they have never felt so content and life has never been so complete.

 

>.<

 

Later that night, Dahyun logs into Tumblr, which she rarely does. She's been visiting this blog a lot lately, and she can finally reblog one of her favorite posts of theirs.

 

She scrolls down her page before reblogging it.

 

“help; my wife is actually my platonic friend who i love very much and care for the same way i would if she was my wife”

 

“Help, my wife is my phone background and my phone keeps running out of battery bc I can’t stop turning it on to look at her”

 

“Help, my wife encourages me to make art and is honestly trying to help me handle my self-doubt and other issues. This fills my heart with such warmth that sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to explode!”

 

“help, my wife tells me im cute and then proceeds to pinch my cheeks like a grandma”

 

“help; my wife is a beautiful person who deserves the world and i hope i can be everything they need and more”

 

“help, whenever my wife laughs a flower blooms, a puppy smiles, an angel is born in the seventh heaven, a bee is saved and I FALL IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN”

 

“Help; my wife keeps giving me the mayonnaise hair treatment but then she puts salami on my head and tries to make me a sandwich.”

 

“help my wife keeps sending me pictures of birds whenever i’m feeling sad”

 

“help; my wife keeps saying I’m the most beautiful girl but I think she is the most beautiful and there can only be one number one”

 

“Help! I can’t stop photoshopping me and my wife’s faces onto weird pictures!”

 

**submitted by dahyunminatazoki to help-wife.tumblr.com**

“help, my wife is married to me. i still can’t believe it. she’s so perfect”

 

_Ping!_

 

My Squeaky Squirrel ✅ 8:31 PM

IMPROMPTU SLEEPOVER. Told my mom we have a project we forgot to do that’s due tomorrow. Shall we proceed with this project? Anyway pls say yes because IM DYINGGG.

Brings scissors and pentel pens and manila envelopes and some ENERGY DRINKS too if you want!!! Omg don’t forget your glasses so she knows it is #Serious. We’ll need the props bc we’ve never done this before. HAVE AN IMPROMPTU SLEEPOVER I mean, yes yes. Time to show your acting skills. See u in a while??? Kbye LOVE U. <3

 

She just keeps falling for her.

Putting her Game Face on, she squares her soldiers, stuffs tonight’s props into a bag, and tells her dad she and Sana will be rushing a school project at home.

 

“For school?” Dahyun doesn’t know why he’s so shocked, but then she remembers that, yep, they’ve never done this before. THE PROCRASTINATING SCHOOLWORK thing. Yes, definitely that. What other reason would they have to have a sudden sleepover?

 

Dahyun forgets that her brain was very much connected to her mouth when she said all those. But her shoulders slump in relief when her father waves her away. “Sure, buttercup. But no skipping school tomorrow, understand?”

 

She salutes, dying inside, saying, “Understood.”

 

>.<

 

The peak of sex with her goes a little something like this:

 

"Here come dat girl. Oh shi—"

 

 _Right there._ A gasp that sounds like "hi".

 

"....Waddup."

 

❤

 

Dahyun walks home alone, one day. Mrs. Minatozaki brings Sana on a date once in a while, just to unwind and have their nails done and chat about _boys_. Dahyun snorts. _Right._

 

Bobbing her head to the tune of Only You, she looks up at the sky littered with flocks of birds.

She wonders how it is to fly.

 

Deciding to drop by the thrift store, she changes her route and goes down another road. Just a quick look around. Mr. and Mrs. Byun usually have new trinkets and furniture delivered every two weeks. Arriving at their store, she greets them chattily. They're good people, and Dahyun just wishes their four children would visit at least more than twice a year. She once happened to notice a framed family photo by their cashier. When asked about their kids, Mr. Byun's face dimmed, and Dahyun never brought it up again. She wishes she brought them some chocolate chip cookies this time. Last time she was here, she gifted them with a tin box of sugar biscuits. Made her heart swell seeing them on cloud nine. She wanted to drag Sana with her and ask her to paint their smiles on a blank canvas. A photo wouldn’t have done justice. A painting can’t too, but it mimics the moment. And with a talent and style like Sana’s, it would’ve been a little different but even more alive and real.

 

There aren't many new stuff. Just the same old worn-out furniture that cost very low and Japanese CDs and keychains and postcards from another time and place. She tries on a red bowler hat and poses in front of a mirror, taking a selfie and sending it to My Squeaky Squirrel.

 

Putting it back to its shelf, she wanders a few more minutes and rests her hands on the sofa-bed. It's been here for a year and a half, and yet the Byuns don't really want to throw it away. Maybe because of the memories.

 

It's an unusual comparison, but it comes to Dahyun easily.

 

Knowing Sana, she'd think it would be funny, but also tooth-achingly saccharine, never saying how cringe-worthy it actually sounds. But it's worth pointing out that that's why she loves her. She's okay with a sofa, and if it happens to double as a bed then okay. If the upholstery is in torn pieces and it's just generally in bad shape, she'll still be thankful to have a bed to sleep in. She'd still like it, learn to love it even if it doesn’t go under repair someday.

 

But Dahyun wants to be so much better. She would give her wife a king sized bed if she asked.

 

As she strolls through the thrift store, music in her ears, she spots something that immediately draws her attention. In the corner stands a small pink frame. It’s heart-shaped and made of wood, and the paint has started to chip off a little, but she thinks Sana would appreciate in some Sana-way.

 

>.<

 

Sana gasps, and when she looks up at Dahyun there are stars in her eyes, blood in her cheeks. Dahyun has never felt so good about herself.

In Sana’s hands lay the frame, but now it comes with a collage of their selfies, taped together and sequenced from oldest to newest. Dahyun also glued sequins of every color to trace a specific chemical formula.

 

Sana’s fingers ghost over the glass, following the line of sequins. “This is… dopamine, right?

“Yes.” Dahyun smiles. “Love.”

 

With care, Sana sets it down on her bedside table and pulls Dahyun’s head down to kiss her.

“Thank you. I really love it. It’s beautifully made and I’m keeping it forever. I’ll make sure it’s always the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning.”

 

Dahyun skims the line of her jaw. "You're the artistic one. I'm just this nerd."

 

"Well, then you are one thoughtful, scientifically proven to be the sweetest ever, nerd." Sana chastely kisses her again, like she's putting into place the last puzzle piece. Perfect, whole. There’s nothing missing when Dahyun is with her.

 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sana says, snapping her out of her gaze. "I love you. You're so cute, stop it. With that rate you're going, you'll in no time abolish the straights."

 

Sighing, she holds Sana's head to her chest. " _My precious_..." She steps several steps backwards, slithering like a snake, belly dancing. Sana whistles with her fingers in her mouth, her palms up facing the ceiling. "Yo 'sup, God? I'm so gay."

 

Amused, Dahyun plays along. "Ding dong! Hello there, So Gay. I'm God." She mirrors Sana’s pose.

 

Sana shakes her head in mock disappointment. "So Gay, why is my wife—my funny, caring, sexy, heartbreakingly gorgeous waifu—so blasphemous? _Why_ , So Gay?"

 

"Hmph. You just don't know me and what I've gone through. Haters gonna hate." Dahyun crosses her arms, rolling her eyes and trying not to smile.

Sana replies, "And potatoes gonna potate?"

 

Dahyun stomps exaggeratedly to her wife’s side, and together they solemnly raise an offering to the Lord. Of course, it’s their So Gay couple collage.

 

"Awomen."

 

They point finger guns at each other, poker-faced, and burst out laughing in seconds.

 

The thing is, Dahyun absolutely loves making out with her _beloved wife_ Sana. It's not just because she's turned on by the sounds she makes, among others. It's mostly because it drives her up the wall to think that she's causing her to act that way, feel that way. Feel goooood. And there, as she straddles her, it's not just good. It's fucking great. What an experience.

 

And now, with the way Sana's looking at her alluringly, chest going up and down like waves, a paroxysm of unadulterated pleasure shoots down Dahyun's spine. Welp. She guesses it can’t be helped.

 

She licks a stripe up the left side of her face. A traumatized Sana shouts, "KIM DAHYUN!!!!!!" Dahyun is then lifted up by her wife—and what the hell she's so strong wtf—and seated on the table, legs wrapped around Sana's waist.

 

Again.

 

And again and again and again.

 

❤

 

"Hi, Mom." Kneeling down, Dahyun pushes the crusty leaves off the headstone. A sigh beats against her ribs, fluttering up her throat. Sana smooths the back of her head.

 

Dahyun does this every month when she isn't swamped with homework, but even if she is she does her best to push through with visiting. Sana has accompanied her to the cemetery a couple of times before, especially at the start when the wound was too, too raw and the sky wouldn't stop crying with her.

 

Today is different. Neither happy nor sad. Just is. From a scale of one to ten, ten being depressed and suicidal, Dahyun balances on a five, Zen blowing in titanic bursts from every direction. Needless to say, she is calm.

 

_That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,_

_which yields its fruit in season_

_and whose leaf does not wither—_

_whatever they do prospers._

 

Sana kneels beside her, laying down her palm on the headstone, over her mother's name. Suddenly, Dahyun is stirred by emotion. The two women she loves the most—separated by, perhaps, a veil of fate.

 

Like the night when they kissed, the trees sway and the leaves rustle, as if declaring, " _Kim Dahyun, do you take Minatozaki Sana to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honor her all the days of your life?_ "

 

In her heart, Dahyun knows the answer: _I do. I already have but of course, I still do. I’d do it all over again._

 

Dahyun is afraid she has forgotten to pray, so instead she sings the only gospel song she knows and learned from kindergarten. It’s Christian, and she feels sorry, but that’s all she has.

They both rise and link hands, Sana's finger after Dahyun's and so. It has become a little chilly out, so the shorter of the two spontaneously bends down.

 

"Hey, what're you doing?"

 

Pulling at the bottom of her girlfriend's parker, Dahyun bites hard at the zipper and pulls it up—with very much difficulty that Sana tries to muffle her laughter—until it's right below her chin. Dahyun jumps back, doing the same to herself but without the bending down and acting like an animal.

 

"You are _super_ extra," Sana laughs, "Have always been!"

 

Dahyun scratches the back of her head. "Did you at least think that was a bit hot?"

 

Sana hugs her, so tightly Dahyun is convinced she will love her to the ends of the world. "In this weather? Extremely hot." Just as she says that, Sana fans herself and wipes her brow. "Whew! It sure is _boiling_ in here! We better call the fire station, quick!”

 

Dahyun rocks them back and forth, a swinging crib, a cared for place. "And you call _me_ extra. Well done, gal pal."

 

Pushing back to see her face, Sana pokes her at the forehead, mirth clouding her eyes. Then she pecks her at the same spot, leaving behind a smile. A vine of love twines itself around her heart, and all she sees is _Sana Sana Sana_.

 

Linking hands once more, Dahyun wonders aloud if Sana can hear the staccato of her heartbeat. The taller of the two holds her back, twirls her around and away. A vivacious laugh bursts Dahyun's heart open, light shining through. Sana mimics lassoing her back, right into the circle of her arms. A lustful kiss flies the trajectory to the side of her mouth, right where that damned Cheetos powder was, when her pulse went haywire. They both shift into place like the gears of a lock. They hurl forward, backward, stay. They always end up staying.

 

Dahyun has never wanted this much to be home alone, with Sana in her arms.

 

"I love you."

 

"Mmm, really? ｡◕ ‿ ◕｡" Sana simpers.

 

Losing herself at the crushingly heart-shattering, mind-blowing sight of Sana's chest and clavicles, Dahyun buries her face in her neck.

 

"I do. I love you. Very much so." Dahyun chokes out a groan, desire reddening her face, her whole body, from head to toe. Is this what hell must feel like? If so, then Jesus Christ is she burning every copy of the Scripture she can get her hands on.

 

Sana rubs her bare back, kissing the top of Dahyun's head and purring, "I know, dear. I just wanted to hear you say it again."

 

Sana kisses her passionately against the wall, rough and heady and breathy _fuck_ s. And you'd think they see their love and love-making as a freak of nature, but they don't. They only see skin and lips and bellies and thighs and ankles and freckles and laughter lines. So many laughter lines.

 

_Your body is a temple. I dwell in it and make it mine, fill it with my love. I am here, inside of you. Feel me adore each and every pillar, each and every corner, each and every tile._

 

Sana kisses her hands, the tips of her fingers. " _God_ , I love your fingers. They're so pretty, just like every other part of you. They make beautiful music too."

 

Dahyun has only been sprayed in holy water once, her father and mother on both sides. They held each other's hands behind Dahyun's back, and she was dressed in white. She can't remember anything else.

 

But now, here, she is in the clarity of all things, knee-deep and plunging into a baptism she's never known before. She is made anew in the name of love.

 

Where her hands touch her, she burns. Where her voice vibrates on her skin, she keens. It's so pretty, so sensitive, and for one night it feels as if they have all the time in the world. Sana surrounds her. Dahyun cups her supple flesh with utmost care and reverence, as if she's the roundest, iridescent pearl in the sea. She cracks her shell open, and there she lies bare and naked, only for her to see. Only for her to touch. Only for her to ravish in one, two, three drinks.

 

Perhaps when Sana dies, she'll be canonized. Dahyun would want to be the martyr that praises her name, even on the brink of death.

 

In bed, they commune, praying. Knees on pews made of pure sheets. Legs spread in a worshipful dance. With closed eyes, they smile as they feel the stairway to heaven on their fingertips. Their souls finally meld into one.

 

They become a beautiful, functional thing.

 

❤

 

The days pass, and school isn’t as stressful as Dahyun would’ve expected. The workload is actually manageable, and she gets enough sleep at night.

Until one day, Dahyun steps into the room, humming happily to _Only You_ , when Jeongyeon, her classmate seated behind her, projectile vomits.

 

Almost everyone screams. Mina covers her mouth and nose, looking away and retching. Jihyo darts out, bumping into a stunned Dahyun who's barely made it in. "I'm calling the nurse!" Jihyo yells back at her, just as Momo pulls the windows open.

 

Jeongyeon is crying, her uniform now a revolting mess. There are bits and pieces of breakfast and last night's dinner splattered across the floor, to her left, right, and front. And the back of Dahyun's chair, where her name is written in Sana's bold calligraphy, is dripping in dark green barf.

 

The smell alone is sickening.

 

The nurse runs to their classroom, Jihyo trailing behind. "What in the heaven's name is happening?" With a hand up as if to ward off the smell, she registers the scene. "Lord Almighty," she says, making the sign of the cross before proceeding to aid the sobbing Jeongyeon out and to the infirmary.

 

Dahyun takes in Jihyo's face when the latter grabs her arm, and Dahyun wonders if Jihyo can see, through her eyes, the wild and panicked look she has. She's never seen the class president like this ever before, which unsettles her even more.

 

Dahyun clenches her free fist around an arm of her backpack.

 

"Two other classes have three different girls vomiting too," she announces to the class. Everyone's heads turn to look at her in mum disbelief, horror, confusion, disgust.

Nayeon passes out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Tzuyu barely catches her before she falls out of her seat, while Chaeyoung shakes her, searching for a response.

 

Momo speaks, “But Jeongyeon has been ill since that night at the pool. She barely got herself submerged. What’s happening?”

 

Dahyun thinks she knows what’s going on.

She runs.

 

She presses on the voicemail—My Squeaky Squirrel—on her phone as she slips through the contained chaos in the hallway, snaking through the distant bodies. All she hears is the ringing in her phone, trying to get to the other side. All she sees is Sana's face, her ethereal, angelic face. If she could reach out and hold it now she would, but not even her call is finding its way.

 

Just when she arrives at the doorway of the infirmary, Sana's voice breaks through. Dahyun almost crashes into two people, and they're pushing her out and away the doorway. But all she's connected to, attached to, is Sana.

 

She knows what’s happening. She should’ve warned them. It was just a hunch, but clearly something irrevocably bad happened at the Songdo Research Lab. Something terribly wrong.

 

Why isn’t the government doing more? Why _haven’t_ they?

 

" _Hello? Dahyun!_ ”

 

"Oh God, Sana. Shit, Sana. Are you across the hall? I checked the infirmary first, to see if you were there. How are you? Did you hear or see about—" Dahyun is about to run again but her rant skids to a heart-stuttering stop when another body collides into hers.

 

Sana. Sana's arms. Sana's voice. Sana's tears, soaking through her uniform and seeping into her skin, down to her core. Dahyun feels like she's being held by the world in a crisis, in a Revelation, in a second coming, a devastation heralding a new beginning.

 

A wipeout.


	2. End 1: She screams.

They are having lunch at the cafeteria, an hour after hell broke loose for about thirty minutes, when the Kraken is released.

An ear-shattering scream sounds through the hallway and down the stairs, startling everyone. Dahyun swears everybody in the school stops moving, and the breath of each pair of lungs is held. Mr. Park, for once, has stopped checking essays while chomping on his food.

 

A senior staggers down the stairs, crying and barely getting what she wants to convey out, “He-elp m-mm-me…”

 

This has got to be some sick joke. A teacher Dahyun doesn’t know makes a move. “Sooyoung? What’s the ma—“ She breaks into a bloodcurdling scream, her eyeballs almost popping out of their sockets, as the student now identified as Im Sooyoung, honor student, first year, class B2, bites down into her throat. Dahyun doesn’t want to believe it, but she sees the teacher’s neck veins burst.

 

And the blood is definitely not crimson.

 

It’s black.

 

No one thinks. Everyone just runs.

 

Dahyun does too. Somehow, in the riotous stampede towards the schoolgate, she finds Sana pushing others to get to her. “Sana!” Dahyun shouts, and Sana shouts back, “What’s happening? I was at the office to have my homework printed out and saw you!”

 

“Im Sooyoung just fucking bit a teacher in front of everyone! You won’t believe me. It’s crazy I know but they’re acting like zombies!” Dahyun spits out and now, even with Sana’s hand in hers, she’s scared.

 

Mr. Park speeds up to the throng of wailing people, waving his arms around, shouting, “ _Go go go! They’re everywhere in the campus!_ ”

 

They’re out in seconds, spilling out the sidewalk and running off in different directions. Sana’s hand slips away from hers. Panicking, heart pounding out her chest, she whirls around until she spots Nayeon pulling her hair, beating her with a fist. “NAYEON WHAT THE FU—“

 

Nayeon looks up and shoves Sana away, grabbing for Dahyun’s neck. “YOU FUCKING KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP AT THE LAB!” Dahyun swings around to dodge her hands, and pulls Sana up. Sana’s nose and lower lip are bleeding, an eye slightly bruised.

 

“FUCK OFF! This is not the time! And we knew nothing! _Nothing!_ ” Dahyun screams in her face, placing herself in front of Sana when a horde of zombies crashes through the gate. Sana and Dahyun turn and run.

 

The ladder to the roof is surrounded by zombies and Sana and Dahyun watch in horror as they see a student being tugged down by a myriad of zombie hands. She screams, but there’s nothing either she or Sana and Dahyun can do.

 

They run as fast as they can to the garbage site behind their school. It’s only a two-minute walk away. Dahyun wishes she enrolled into track and field when she was younger, but there isn't much to ponder on or regret when zombies are chasing you for your flesh and guts and brains.

 

Dahyun spots a bicycle with an extra seat behind it. "Sana!" She points to the bike and Sana nods, rushing with her to climb on the bike. They reach it, and just as one leading zombie is a hairbreadth away from Sana's arm, Dahyun thinks she’s got it, but just a second before she starts pedaling,

 

Sana

 

screams

 

like

 

never

 

before.

 

>.<

 

They do, in fact, make it to the garbage site.

But Sana has very little chance of making it.

 

The once animated oceans in Dahyun ebb away, the night is cold. Somewhere more hidden and closed off inside her brings her to her knees. The glaciers fall, the globe is changing. The life in her hides, but there is no reef. Never has she craved death so much, and she will not muffle her cries anymore. Not after this, not after the love of her life is...

 

In the nights where they became one, she was tricked into the illusion that forever does exist. You just have to find the right person to spend it with.

 

And yet there truly is no happy ending. The fairytales her father read to her when she couldn't sleep were all misleading. Now there can't be any memory worth holding on to, when the present is so bleak and dead.

 

"Love, love," Sana whimpers, marginally turning in Dahyun's arms. Dahyun can't stop crying, can't stop wishing she were in her forever's place. For now the bitten girl in her arms attempts to wipe her face, make it into a clean slate with no default emotion. But Dahyun's heart is broken. She is broken, just because she has loved.

 

Her life stirs in her arms, extends a heavy arm to touch Dahyun's chin. She feels the plastic ring scratch her, and she grips those fingers, those damn talented fingers. Fingers she doesn't want to let go of.

 

"Sana." Once upon a time, her name felt like a litany on her tongue. She could've said it all day and night, a pristine promise that kept her safe. But now it has actualized into a boulder speeding down the tallest hill, killing everything in its path. And nothing can't stop it. Not even God or a god or her guardian angel.

 

Sana's tears cascade down her cheeks, a last cry, slowly as if time has granted them a few more seconds together. But at the same time each breath is unbearable. There are holes in Dahyun's chest she knows she can't ever patch up.

 

"This isn't _right_ ," Dahyun sobs, biting down on her tongue so she doesn't scream. The copper taste of blood infiltrates her every sense. "This is so wrong, this isn't how it should be, _I love you too much to let you go_."

 

A sob breaks the earth in half. She wish she were imagining it, but Dahyun can see the complexion of Sana's skin changing, graying. And she knows Sana can feel it happening. The sense of decay, inside and out.

 

The end is nigh.

 

In contrast to the wedding bells that Dahyun once dreamed of making real, trumpets sound. It bounces off the pockets of her lungs. Outside, human life deteriorates and seven suns corner the earth to a claustrophobic degree.

 

Sana is fading away, her soul a ghost now. "Please don't leave me. _Please?_ You just can't." Dahyun weeps. "I love you. I love you I love you _I LOVE YOU!_ Please take my shattered heart with you. Why wasn’t it me instead? _Please, Sana, please_ —"

 

There's blood everywhere.

 

Sana's last words. "G-g-go. No-Ow. Go now!" She's choking on tears, or vomit, Dahyun doesn't know. " _Leave!_ S-save yourself. You u a r r e my-y wor l—d. I lo-o-ovv e you u. So o mu u—"

 

One second later, Sana stops breathing, and her ring slips off her finger and falls into Dahyun’s palm. Dahyun stands, dizzy, sick, yet she doesn't want to ever leave. But she knows, Sana knows, this body is hers but it's not her anymore.

 

She loves her, so much. She is her entire world.

 

She runs.

Like never befoe.

 

She kicks off to a good start, managing not to slip, and flees. It hurts, Sana. It hurts, and I loved you. I love you, still. Forever.

 

She flies to the back of their school. Several times her knees buckle, hands cutting through the granite, shattered glass from windows. They're here, and they're approaching. Fast. Dahyun keeps rising, but her movements are delayed, her thoughts not intact anymore. Debris of her subconscious litter the floor. Yet she still reaches the rusty fire escape ladder, pulling it down with what little strength she has so she can access the stairs. Her palms are bleeding but she doesn't—can't—care, using the railings for support. One step, two step.

 

Looking like a bedraggled doll, buttons for eyes and fat forced into muscles, a cross-stitched smile doing more than she can bear, she arrives.

 

Finally. Touchdown.

 

They always keep the door leading downstairs locked in chains, so she doesn't really need to worry about being held back. Here, for a few minutes, she is free. She has run from the tragedy of Pompeii.

 

She has always loved the stars and the skies. But fear always lingers, especially now without Sana there to sing the bad stuff away. Dahyun wants it to fuck off. Right now. She's doing this. Game over. This life could've been a fucking joke, this part right here the punchline, if it were not for the love of her life that saved her as much as she could.

 

She knows she promised not to, but she has to. It's all she looks forward to now. Everything else is nothing but a worthless iota in the infinity beyond life. She wishes she could probably say goodbye.

 

_My Sana, my Sana. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I'm so sorry we loved too much, too dauntlessly. Goodbye, I love you more. I wish we had done even more. I regret nothing except for not keeping you safe enough._

 

_I wish to dream of you when I sleep. It was forever, love. It was._

 

She has a white flag, hears white noise, keeps white doves to be released at funerals. White bones deeply rested six feet under. White wine, white target, white sheets, white boards.

But she leaves room for a black sky.

 

Maybe, just maybe, when she wakes up again, Sana will be there, holding out a paintbrush. Together they shall paint the sky with dots of white. Their very own postcard of a starry night, shipped to a place only they know. There, their hearts beat as one.

 

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

 

She wishes she had her mother's devotion. Her dexterity, her kindness.

She regrets she didn't think of her more. But what would have her mom wanted for her only daughter? Dahyun should've at least accepted the copy from Mr. Park. She should’ve at least got her bike fixed and cleaned and oiled.

 

Arms spread wide, imitative of the cross on her father's forefinger, Dahyun jumps. **_Dahyun soars._**

 

In the distance, far, near, there, here, plays their song. Horns sound, but their song is all she hears. All she knows. She doesn't sing it, it sings her. It sings her until she's nothing but a melodious wave in the air.

 

The rings on her finger is made out of plastic, but Dahyun swears she sees it twinkle like a diamond.

 

_The memory that I can’t forget,_

_I unknowingly find myself choking,_

_My tears form, dripping, My love,_

_Breathless, my tears fall,_

_You are going away._

_But a Beautiful Goodbye,_

_But a Beautiful Goodbye,_

_But a Beautiful Goodbye_

_Because it’s you I’ll miss you more,_

_Even if my heart hurts, But a Beautiful Goodbye_

 

The last thing she thinks about is Sana.


	3. End 2: She cries.

They are having lunch at the cafeteria, an hour after hell broke loose for about thirty minutes, when the Kraken is released.

An ear-shattering scream sounds through the hallway and down the stairs, startling everyone. Dahyun swears everybody in the school stops moving, and the breath of each pair of lungs is held. Mr. Park, for once, has stopped checking essays while chomping on his food.

 

A senior staggers down the stairs, crying and barely getting what she wants to convey out, “He-elp m-mm-me…”

 

This has got to be some sick joke. A teacher Dahyun doesn’t know makes a move. “Sooyoung? What’s the ma—“ She breaks into a bloodcurdling scream, her eyeballs almost popping out of their sockets, as the student now identified as Im Sooyoung, honor student, first year, class B2, bites down into her throat. Dahyun doesn’t want to believe it, but she sees the teacher’s neck veins burst.

 

And the blood is definitely not crimson.

 

It’s black.

 

No one thinks. Everyone just runs.

 

Dahyun does too. Somehow, in the riotous stampede towards the schoolgate, she finds Sana pushing others to get to her. “Sana!” Dahyun shouts, and Sana shouts back, “What’s happening? I was at the office to have my homework printed out and saw you!”

 

“Im Sooyoung just fucking bit a teacher in front of everyone! You won’t believe me. It’s crazy I know but they’re acting like zombies!” Dahyun spits out and now, even with Sana’s hand in hers, she’s scared.

 

Mr. Park speeds up to the throng of wailing people, waving his arms around, shouting, “Go go go! They’re everywhere in the campus!”

 

They’re out in seconds, spilling out the sidewalk and running off in different directions. Sana’s hand slips away from hers. Panicking, heart pounding out her chest, she whirls around until she spots Nayeon pulling her hair, beating her with a fist. “NAYEON WHAT THE FU—“

 

Nayeon looks up and shoves Sana away, grabbing for Dahyun’s neck. “YOU FUCKING KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP AT THE LAB!” Dahyun swings around to dodge her hands, and pulls Sana up. Sana’s nose and lower lip are bleeding, an eye slightly bruised.

 

“FUCK OFF! This is not the time! And we knew nothing! Nothing!” Dahyun screams in her face, placing herself in front of Sana when a horde of zombies crashes through the gate. Sana and Dahyun turn and run.

 

The ladder to the roof is surrounded by zombies and Sana and Dahyun watch in horror as they see a student being tugged down by a myriad of zombie hands. She screams, but there’s nothing either she or Sana and Dahyun can do.

 

They run as fast as they can to the garbage site behind their school. It’s only a two-minute walk away. Dahyun wishes she enrolled into track and field when she was younger, but there isn't much to ponder on or regret when zombies are chasing you for your flesh and guts and brains.

 

Dahyun spots a bicycle with an extra seat behind it. "Sana!" She points to the bike and Sana nods, rushing with her to climb on the bike. They reach it, and just as one leading—like wtf is this Asia's Next Top Zombie?—zombie is a hairbreadth away from Sana's arm, Dahyun starts pedaling like there's no tomorrow. Huffs of breath tickle her neck and Sana’s arms wrap around her middle tightly.

 

They get to the corner, swerving and gliding, and Dahyun bikes up the slope to the garbage site. They hop off the bike, and as the zombies struggle to run up the slope, Sana manages to kick open the door by the gate. When they get to the other side, they slam it shut. Dahyun searches around and finds a cabinet with an axe-shaped hole in it. She pushes it towards the door with all her might, and with Sana she quickly spots a cabinet. It takes so much effort. A zombie’s fingers manage to get in but when they slam the cabinet against the door, the fingers fall off. For a millisecond it still moves in search for something to hold, but out of nowhere Sana hacks a machete into it.

 

Dahyun feels like she’s going to pass out, but Sana drops the weapon and reaches for her. They search each other to find out if they’ve been bitten, scratched, but there’s nothing. No bites, no cuts, no punches carved into the skin.

Sana envelops Dahyun in a hug.

 

There is nothing else to do but cry and hope for the better. Speculate. Pray. Scream and shout.

 

It’s a mad world.

 

“I love you,” Sana whimpers in her face. “We’re safe, we’re safe, baby, we’re safe. Shhh.”

 

Dahyun falls into her, tears forming a river around them, and she cries like never before. She imagines it will flow and bring them back home. But for now, Sana is here and she’s okay and they both are. Together.

 

She now understands why her parents have always depended on faith and religion.

It was never about the books, or the rosaries, or the chapel services, or the way the world ended.

It was always about believing in something when everything else went away.

 

She thinks she can find that in Sana. Is love alone ever enough?

 

They stand still.

 

They’re okay.

They’ll survive.

Like they have always been doing.

 

Dahyun just wishes, that whatever happens, Sana will be there.

 

Then she’ll know she’ll make it.

Both of them will.


	4. End Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acknowledgements and How Are You?s

**Acknowledgements**

 

I wanna express my never-ending gratitude to the following people:

 

Amina Sawamura, the walnut to my peanut, the lasaga to my spagheti, the rain to my humidity, the motion to my emotion (you are always in transit towards Miyagi, while I am always memeing). Thank you for the critique and shrill screaming alongside me. Thanks for all the WMRTs, and here's to many, many more. You are both valour and simplicity, I hope you realize that sooner or later. I believe you were made for airy fields and hills and not cramped, sweaty spaces. You are also my favorite song! I will never forget the 26th of September 2016. Yeah, arigatou for nothing. _+Absolutely everything._  


 

Marian Horan, my mare and bespren, my wingwoman, an award-winning Wattpad Best-selling Author, and comedienne. Ka-Tita of Manila rin kita. Thank you for growing up with me, and accepting me as I've continued to change and reveal myself. Thank you for the frickin' Petrichor and Eyeglasses Names, naaalala mo pa ba 'yun? lol, parang novel na 'to. Anyway, we need to put up a relationship advice blog. Maybe when we're thirty? HAHA. Thanks for checking out and reading my fics, kahit na I know hindi talaga thing mo mga fic na 'to lol. I value your presence and opinion and your compassion. Let's continue to hate math together. 'Lam mo na mahal kita eheheh.

 

xherenowx, the AM to my PM, the tol to my smol, the worm to my bird. Thank you for the inspiration, and for simply caring and sharing who you are with me. It means a lot that you talk to me about anything and everything and listen to me as well. Thank you for the empathy. I hope you learn to bear in mind that you are so very courageous and strong just because you are. You know you make me smile for more than a couple of miles. I am way honored to have met you. _And just don't wiggle sometimes, wiggle all the time!!!!!_  


 

 

 

** Let's Talk **

 

 

[Stitch voice] _Hiiiii._  


 

How are ya? Oh what was that? Ah, me? I am SWELLing with tears. Thank you! For asking, for reading, for upvoting/subscribing and, maybe, even skipping to this part for whatever reason. You. Are. Lesbeautiful. (Pun creds to Amina.)

 

 

 

Let's start off on a positive, light note hahaha.

Look Taho up! So let's say I was indeed hungry and craving for taho when I outlined that scene. Well if I was, there is a good reason. Not only is taho soooo warm and deliciously syrupy I cry whenever the tahk vendor passes by my street, but it is also made out of tofu. Ring a bell? Tofu. Dahyun. Tofu! Dahyun! Ta-Dahyun! YOU'RE GENIUS. I'M GENIUS. WE ARE BOTH GENUISES IN A WORLD OF SWEET, SWEET TOFU. Sana loves you.

Hop onto the next flight to the PH and let's have taho together. Then cry. It depends on you whether we shed tears of joy or heartbreak.

 

 

 

Most of the ideas that made this fic what it is, came to me when I least expected it. I would be shampooing my hair and an idea would strike me and knock me out. I have to, like, crawl back to my phone half-naked somehow and write it down no matter how stupid it sounds. More realistic and believable is when I was preparing my sofa bed and it made me think of Dahyun's corny ass love for Sana. Wow, gay.

 

I'm not lying or exaggerating when writing this story made me stay up. I'd be firing away at my keyboard because I just want everything I want to see laminated into a safely preserved monument of unconditional love (ayy lmao). I'd like to think that this fic serves as a memento to me that I am free to love whoever and whatever I want, wholeheartedly and fearlessly, hence the people I dedicated this story too: the wlw, the sapphics, the lesbians, the bisexuals, the pansexuals, and more.

 

Honestly? I really can't wrap my head around as to how I got to write this. It was A MESS. (Still kinda is.) Imagine scattered readings on the floor, and your dog's pee everywhere, and your neighbor's karaoke night apparently extending to four am. It wasn't like that for me in a literal sense, no, but that's pretty much how it felt. It involved a lot of crying and sweating.

 

 

 

FEEL FREE to comment!!!! I want to hear what you think about anything re: my writing! Just a simple sentence would make my day, or year, who knows.

 

Love you, all. I will try to publish the HAPPY drabble as soon as I can. :) **_Take care!!!!!!!!!!! <3_**  


**Author's Note:**

> Time to pick an ending! Check the chapter tabs out and go on from there!


End file.
